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When Mr. Glen Otterbausch hired Sammy Boone she was sixteen and so skinny that the whole of her beanpole body fit neatly inside the circle of shade cast by her hat. 

On Saturday, when I come to see
my brother, they call him, over loudspeaker,
to the tower—a small guardroom

Here is North Gulfport—
its liquor stores and car washes,

She’s always been a tomboy, Mama Vic says, Mouthy.
Runnin’ the roads. Not comin’ home, and as she speaks

The water clock makes into a measure
a flow so continuous none can say

Once, I was a daughter of this place:
daughter of Gwen, granddaughter
of Leretta, great of Eugenia McGee.

Somewhere in the post-Katrina wreckage and disarray of my grandmother’s house, there is a photograph of my brother Joe and me, our arms around each other’s shoulders. We are at a long-gone nightclub in Gulfport, the Terrace Lounge, standing...

On her wedding day, a bride should slip a good penny into her shoe
to ensure luck and wealth during the life of her marriage.

We’re at the Potts Mountain Shooting Range
on a hot day in March, blowing ammo,